A Dream Come True
by SamDreams
Summary: Sam and Dean discover they share a mutual attraction. First-time Wincest/Weecest.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note__:_

_This is my first multi-chapter fan fic. Yes, EVER! So I'm going to sort out how to load it and whatnot, but bear with me if there are hiccups along the way._

_I was in the process of writing another of my "Sam Winchester" one-shots when this idea just popped into my head and demanded to be finished first._

_I mostly dabble in PWP and don't write much angst and explore a ton of emotion; I tend to cut to the chase. However, for a first-time Wincest story, I felt that you really can't fully get to the culmination without a lot of exploration of what caused the boys to reach that point. So, after reading some other authors for inspiration (check out my Favorites for some truly fantastic fiction choices!), I decided to give the whole angsty emotional thing a shot._

_Reviews warmly welcomed and appreciated! I hope you enjoy it. _

**_**__WARNINGS_**_**:** First-time WINCEST, and more importantly, WEECEST (Sam is sixteen in this story). Explicit sexual content; language._

**A Dream Come True**

****Chapter One****

_**May 10, 1999**_

Sam slumped onto the motel bed and let his backpack drop to the floor. For several moments, he just sat there staring at nothing. _What a horrible day_, he thought. _At least it's Friday_.

The day had started off bad enough when Sam woke alone in the room. Dean had spent the night out somewhere. Again. Sam sighed. He hated when Dean was gone. Sam looked around. No note anywhere. He got up and went to the mini fridge and grabbed a can of Coke. Popping the top, he walked back to his bed and sat back down. He probably should do his homework, but his mind wasn't in the right place for it. He sat quietly, staring at nothing and mulling over the day's events.

After waking alone that morning, Sam had tried to shake off the nightmare he'd had, in which his friend Alec had been playing basketball and had broken his foot. It wasn't that the dream was terribly scary, although he felt horrible for dreaming such a bad thing had happened to his friend. Rather, it was the quality of the dream that had Sam a bit shaken. It felt different. It was clear yet jumbled. And he remembered the details of it better than most of his usual dreams. He grimaced. The whole thing had given him a pounding headache.

He showered and threw on a t-shirt and jeans. After walking the two miles to school, Sam found Katie Bramble at her locker, which was only a few down from his own. He liked Katie. Maybe he even really liked her. He was thinking about asking her to the spring dance. They chatted for a minute and then Sam opened his own locker. He was rearranging his things when two books tumbled to the ground. Of course, it couldn't have been his Advanced Algebra or Modern History books. No. It had to be the _Demonology and Witchcraft_ and _Black Magic_ books. He hurried to retrieve them from the ground, but Katie had seen them. Her eyes were wide with an unspoken question.

"Research," Sam said weakly, which, he realized instantly, was probably the worst thing to say.

Katie half-laughed, her jaw still a bit slack. "Research for what?" It was clear she was less than pleased at his choice of research materials.

"Just in general," Sam supplied lamely, and shoved the offending books hard into his locker. He slammed the locker shut and hoisted his backpack onto his back again with more force than necessary. Just as he did, his butterfly knife bounced out of its side pocket, landing on the floor with a metallic clink. Sam hurriedly reached down and swept it up with his long fingers, shoving it back into its hiding place.

"What are you, some kind of sick freak?" Katie asked softly, her voice a mixture of horror and disgust. Sam was so stunned he didn't reply. He just watched her stalk off. His face flamed with a deep crimson blush and he sighed. So now another person had figured out he was a freak. And there goes any thought of the spring dance, Sam told himself as he trudged glumly to his history class.

Now that Dean was 20, John was leaving the boys together alone a lot more often. Dean had decided to settle Sam in at a motel near a local school and promised his little brother that they wouldn't move again until school was out. That had been six months ago, and Dean had kept his word. Sam loved him for it. No more moving around and being the new kid. Finally, Sam could go to school and make friends and have a normal life. Well. Except for dropping occult books and knives on the ground and scaring off potential dates.

But despite the newfound stability, Sam didn't really have any friends. He had acquaintances, and he sat with a couple of usual guys at lunch, but he didn't hang out after school or go to football games with them. He just wanted to come home and be with Dean. It had always been that way. He couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be than with his big brother. It was the other part of him that made him an even bigger freak. The thing he didn't let himself think about when he lay in the dark trying to sleep.

He couldn't say when it had started. A year ago? Longer? It had happened so slowly that he almost didn't recognize it at first. Staring at his big brother when he came out of the shower, admiring his muscled form. Each time looking into his brother's iced jade eyes like it was the first time he'd ever seen them. Watching Dean get dressed, fix the Impala, practice shooting. Hell, even watching Dean eat had become a bit of an obsession.

Sam didn't really think about why this had happened at first. But then his teenaged body and all its overblown hormones had kicked in. One day he was sitting at the motel's wobbly table with Dean. They were both eating hamburgers. Dean lifted his finger to his mouth to lick off a glob of ketchup. Sam paused in mid bite and watched Dean press the tip of his finger into his mouth, give it a lick, and remove it. Sam's mouth went completely dry. Suddenly he had a vision of his brother's full, perfect lips surrounding Sam's cock and sucking it. His cock sprang to life in his jeans. It was unexpectedly erotic, and Sam's brain just couldn't process it. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom before Dean could see that he'd sprouted a hard-on.

He'd stayed locked in the bathroom for an hour, until Dean promised to break the door down if he didn't come out. No matter how Dean cajoled, ordered, or threatened Sam, Sam never told him what had caused him to run into the bathroom that day. He just kept saying the burger had made him sick, but he could tell Dean knew better. Finally, Dean let it drop.

It kept getting worse and worse after that. He'd lost count of the times he'd had to shut himself in the motel bathroom to jerk off after watching Dean walk around the room in a towel, or sometimes entirely nude like it was somehow completely normal to walk around naked. Sam knew it _would_ be normal if he weren't a freak. He wouldn't think his brother was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He wouldn't want to feel Dean's hands on him. He wouldn't wonder what those full, luscious lips tasted like, or felt like rubbing against his own.

After school, Sam had been walking home past the basketball court. An ambulance was there, and he saw paramedics loading a patient into the back. Sam's jaw dropped when he saw that it was Alec. When he asked a bystander what happened, he found out: Alec had broken his foot while playing basketball with some friends.

Sam stood immobile for several long seconds, letting the knowledge wash over him. Then he ran. He pumped his long, slender legs hard, one after the other, eating up the pavement. How did his dream come true? How is that possible? What's the matter with him that he would have a terrible dream like that about a friend? What kind of person does that? I am a freak, I am a freak…and he ran faster.

Until he tripped. A gnarled tree branch jutting up from a crack in the sidewalk caught the toe of his sneaker, and Sam went sailing. He landed face-down, which meant his heavy backpack landed on top of him with a hard thud. He couldn't get a deep breath for a couple of seconds, but finally managed to suck one in. Panting from his run, he struggled to his feet. His knees were badly scraped and his jeans torn.

Sam shook himself from his reverie. He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd sat there, just staring at the wall, but he suspected it was nearly sunset. He took another sip of his Coke and let out a deeper sigh. His knees ached. His whole body ached. He was tired. Not just physically fatigued but mentally tired. Tired of feeling like such a misfit. Tired of not having a normal life. Tired of being a kid. Tired of being alone. Tired of everything.

The door clicked open. "Hey, Sam!" Dean greeted in a cheerful voice as he entered the room.

Instantly Sam's expression brightened, but not before Dean had seen his baby brother's lost look only a second before. Dean loved it when Sam's expression turned happier when he looked at his big brother. He felt exactly the same way when he saw Sam. Nothing made him happier than that. He breathed better when he was in the same room with his little brother. Everything just felt…better. Except now his big brother instincts kicked in and he knew something was wrong.

He tossed the keys onto the nightstand and moved to sit by Sam on the bed. "What's up?"

"Nothin', why?"

"When I walked in, you looked like your dog just died, that's why."

Sam blushed. He hated that Dean knew him so well sometimes. "Rough day is all."

"Well you're home now," Dean said, and gave Sam's knee a pat. Sam winced and let out a gasp. Dean frowned. "What happened here?" he asked when he saw Sam's jeans were torn and his knee was bleeding.

"I fell."

Dean chuckled and clapped Sam's back with affection. "You're growin' too fast, Tiger. It's throwing you off balance. Gotta get used to bein' in that tall body of yours now. It'll take some adjustment but you'll get there."

Dean got up and went to the fridge himself. Frowning when he discovered there was no beer, he grabbed a Coke for himself and popped the top. "Listen, Sammy," he said after taking a long drink, "I'm sorry I didn't make it home last night."

"It's okay," Sam lied.

Dean knew it wasn't. He felt the familiar stab of guilt that he endured every time he did something to let down his little brother. "Let's patch up those knees," said Dean. He couldn't tell Sam the real reason he had stayed away last night. He couldn't tell him how miserable he is every time he leaves him for longer than two seconds.

Instead, Dean went to his duffle bag and withdrew a small first-aid kit. He dug around the kit to find two large Band-Aids and some Neosporin ointment. "Take off your jeans."

Sam blushed again but knew he couldn't refuse without causing a scene and making everything worse. So he stood up and gingerly removed his jeans.

Dean turned around and his breath caught in his throat. _Jesus_, he thought as he gazed at his brother's tall, lanky form. _Breathe_, he mentally reminded himself. _Act normal_.

Sam stood in his grey boxer-briefs and t-shirt, the dim light in the motel room casting shadows that seemed to cast all of his newly-developed muscles into sharp relief. His chocolate hair was mussed. Dean could hardly withstand the temptation to walk over and bury his fingers in the soft curls at the nape of Sam's neck. He mentally shook himself. _Get a grip on yourself_. Dean had to swallow hard to regain his composure. He watched as Sam folded his torn jeans for some reason, even though they were worthless now. Another clue to Dean that his brother had a lot on his mind.

"Did your shirt get messed up, too?" Dean asked. Instantly he regretted asking. What would he do if Sam took off his shirt? He'd be in serious trouble. Why had he brought it up?

"Um," Sam replied, glancing down to inspect it closely for the first time since his fall. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it did." There was a tear in the lower left section of his t-shirt. Sam pulled it off and began folding that, too.

Dean couldn't move for a few seconds. He just stood there, staring. When had all this happened? He knew Sam had filled out, of course. He'd been watching it for months. That's exactly why he'd done more lately to avoid his brother. He tried to be gone or stay busy whenever Sam showered. But somehow, this moment brought that reality thundering down on him. Sam's long fingers played with the cotton of the shirt as he folded it. Dean wondered what those long fingers would feel like moving along his skin. He blushed bright red and couldn't stop it. _I'm going to burn in Hell._

"Find what you needed?" Sam asked, bringing Dean out of lustful thoughts and back to the task at hand.

"Yeah," said Dean, walking over. "Sit."

Sam sat. He never really stopped to think why he generally did what Dean said to do. He simply did it.

Dean opened the Neosporin and checked out the first wound. The right knee looked worse than the left. He dabbed some ointment on his fingers and very carefully covered up the angry red tear, making sure to coat it completely. Then he covered it with the bandage and moved to the next knee.

It took every bit of Sam's restraint to keep from getting hard. He could feel Dean's body heat. Tender fingers brushing his hurt knees. Warm breath so close he could feel it on his thigh while Dean studied the wounds and patched them. Sam tried to close his eyes and think of something scary or sad to take his mind off how elated he felt to have Dean so close like this. It almost made Sam want to go out and hurt himself some more, just to feel Dean's hands on his body. _You really are a freak_, he thought.

When he'd finished, Dean stood up. He tried to say something but couldn't get the words out. He cleared his throat. "Better?"

Sam only nodded. Dean threw away the wrappers and put the ointment back in the first-aid kit. As he nestled the kit back into his duffle bag, he knew he had to do the right thing. He had to stop feeling this way about his little brother. He was supposed to take care of Sam, look out for him. He would rip the head off of any monster that touched him. Except now he was the monster. Sam was a sweet, innocent kid, freshly sixteen. What kind of sick, perverted animal had he become to have sexual thoughts about his own little brother? Sam probably hadn't even had sex yet, and Dean was thinking of…God. Dean shut his eyes and willed his thoughts to stop racing in the direction they'd gone.

"Dean? You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"You've been a human garbage disposal these last few months during this latest growth spurt of yours. What do you mean you're not hungry?" Dean teased, hoping to keep his tone light-hearted. Sam was Dean's height now. Dean was still adjusting to the fact that he could look his little brother directly in the eye these days.

Sam shrugged. "Like I said, rough day."

"Why don't you climb into bed and sleep it off then? I'll leave so you can have some peace and—" he stopped short when Sam's expression crumbled. He moved to sit beside Sam on the bed again. "Hey…what is it?" he asked softly.

The dam burst. Sam couldn't take it another moment. The events of the entire day overwhelmed him, and the knowledge that he was about to spend another night without Dean was too much. Sobs wracked him. Even Dean's strong arms wrapping tightly around him didn't stem the tide.

Dean let Sam cry for several minutes. His blood ran cold worrying about what had set off such a reaction, but he fought against interrupting Sam's moment. Clearly he needed this, and Dean wouldn't stop it. He cradled Sam's head in his hand and gently stroked his hair. "It's okay," Dean said, so very softly that Sam almost didn't hear it, but he did.

"Don't leave me again, Dean."

"I'd never leave you, Sammy, you know that." Dean surprised himself by giving Sam's temple a kiss.

"I mean tonight. I can't take another night here without you."

Dean blinked in surprise but never stopped stroking his brother's thick hair. "Okay, Sammy. It's okay, I won't leave, I promise." What had brought this on? He was gone all the time and Sam had never complained. Yet here Sam sat, such a strapping young man, but still a frightened child.

Sam reached up and hugged Dean so tightly that Dean wondered if he might be bruised the next day. But it felt good. He tightened his own hold on Sam to let him know he wasn't going anywhere.

"Hey, what's all this about, huh?"

Sam shook his head, his face still buried in Dean's shoulder. Dean felt the wetness of his brother's tears soaking his shirt and it broke his heart. "C'mon, Sammy. You can tell me anything, you know that."

Sam sniffled but didn't pull away. If he had his way, he would never leave Dean's arms. At least now he had a reasonable excuse for clinging to him, so he wanted to enjoy the feel of it for as long as possible. Softly, Sam finally said, "Katie Bramble called me a freak."

Dean grimaced. He knew how sensitive Sam was about that particular word. He didn't care who Katie was or how old she was. She had better not come near Dean anytime soon. "Well Katie Bramble is a dumbass."

Sam half-chuckled and hugged Dean tighter. He loved how protective Dean was over him. Sometimes it was a real pain, but sometimes, like right now, it felt so good. "I dropped my occult books and butterfly knife on the ground and she saw them."

"Well who needs a wussy girl like that anyways? You need a Red Sonja, not some wimp."

Sam smiled against Dean's neck and nuzzled it. He was pushing the limit, he knew, but it felt so good to be held like this. He didn't want it to end. Wanted to keep inhaling the scent that was pure Dean. Keep feeling those strong arms around him.

Sam considered mentioning the dream. He almost didn't, but Dean was being so supportive, so tender, that it just came out of his mouth before he could over-think it: "Last night I dreamt Alec broke his ankle playing basketball."

"What, you couldn't dream about a threesome with Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox?"

Sam poked Dean in the back. "I'm serious."

"Well that sucks, dude, but it was just a dream."

"It wasn't."

Dean's fingers were threading slowly through Sam's hair and stopped. "Come again?"

"It actually happened today. Last night I dreamt it, and when I was walking home from school," Sam explained, and Dean felt the shiver trip down his brother's spine as he continued, "I saw Alec being taken away in an ambulance."

Dean's first instinct was to shift into full worry mode, but then he calmed himself. "You know what I think? I think it must've been some weird déjà vu thing."

"It wasn't," Sam said in a small voice, still clinging to Dean like a lifeline. "I don't know why I would dream something that terrible about someone I know." He was getting upset all over again now remembering the vivid nightmare. Dean resumed stroking Sam's hair. Sam continued, "I don't know why I would have those kinds of thoughts. I don't know why I have any of the thoughts I have. I can't stop it. I try so hard, but I can't stop them." A fresh sob escaped him. "No wonder you don't want to be here with me. Katie's right. I am a freak."

Dean's heart cracked open and he hugged Sam tighter. He wanted more than anything in the world to take the hurt away. He hated himself right this moment. Hated the immense pain he'd wrought on his sweet baby brother. He'd thought he was doing the right thing to stay away, and realized now just how deeply he had hurt Sam. He would've cut off a finger rather than cause Sam pain.

"Hey…." Dean crooned, and now his heart was racing so he had to fight to keep his tone and breathing steady. "Sammy, you're not a freak. No way. "

Dean moved to lie back on the bed and brought Sam with him. "C'mere," he said. "C'mon. I love being with you. Always have, Sammy." Dean's voice was barely a whisper as he drew Sam close beside him. Sam rested his head on Dean's chest and snuggled up as close as he could possibly get, wrapping his arm tightly around his big brother. Dean's declaration brought a fresh crop of tears, but this time they were tears of relief and happiness. Sam cried for another minute but slowly gathered his composure again.

Sam hiccupped and Dean squeezed him in a one-armed hug. His other arm rested across his stomach on top of Sam's. Dean removed his left arm from around Sam so he could play with Sam's hair again. Dean couldn't get enough of the soft, silky strands and the way they felt around his fingers. And those tantalizing little curls right at the ends. His brother was getting some bangs, too, now. It was impossible to resist putting his fingers in that delicious thatch of hair when Sam was this close. A sense of wickedness passed through him, but he didn't care.

"Mmm," was all Sam said in response. When Dean shifted a few minutes later and pulled his fingers from Sam's hair, Sam let out a whimper. Dean buried his hand in Sam's hair again and Sam sighed and let out another "Mmm."

Dean smiled. "Let's get some sleep, Sammy," he whispered. He reached up toward the lamp, which meant he had to remove his hand from Sam's hair again. Sam whimpered louder. Dean chuckled. "Just turning off the lamp." He flicked the switch and threaded his fingers through Sam's hair again. This time, Sam let out a deep, shuddering sigh.

Dean knew his little brother was exhausted. Dean wasn't really tired, but he lay there holding Sam until Sam's breathing became deep and even. What other thoughts had Sam been having? What kinds of thoughts would scare him like that? What kinds of thoughts would he think he needed to try to stop? Hunting stuff? Sam had seen an awful lot of crap growing up. Dean worried if maybe that had somehow taken a toll on him that he and Dad hadn't noticed till now. He would try to broach the subject again tomorrow after Sam had had a good night's sleep. Before Dean knew it, he was drifting into his own world of dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**** Chapter Two ****

"Dean!"

Sam's urgent cry jerked Dean awake instantly. Adrenalin shot through him from head to toe as he reached for the gun he always kept under his pillow.

But Sam was still lying right beside him and appeared to be fast asleep. Dean tried to slow his frantic heartbeat now that he knew Sam was safe. Had he dreamt Sam in distress calling his name? _Jesus Christ_, he thought as he blew out a relieved breath.

"God, Dean," Sam moaned softly, and pressed his hips against Dean's thigh. It was only then that Dean realized his little brother was talking in his sleep. And Dean's mouth dropped open in in amazement to find that Sam had a rock-hard erection. Sam whimpered and brushed his hard cock against Dean's leg again. His breathing was erratic. "More…" Sam pumped in earnest now, rocking his hard shaft against Dean's thigh.

Dean's own cock had sprung to life and was fully hard in moments as Sam pushed his hot erection against Dean's hip and thigh. Dean fought with himself. Should he wake Sam up? Should he move away? But he couldn't do either of those things. It felt so good, and he wanted his brother to feel good, too. Suddenly he simply couldn't stop himself. The words were out before he could talk himself out of it. "Come for me, Sammy. Come hard."

Sam whimpered loudly, his throat making all kinds of mewling, moaning noises that drove the blood straight to Dean's cock, turning it into a steed rod. He kept murmuring words that sounded like "Yes" or "God" or "Please" but it was all jumbled, and his breathing was so heavy that Dean couldn't really make out the words. But there was one word that Sam mumbled over and over like a mantra as his thrusting reached a fevered pitch, and it was unmistakable: "Dean…Dean…Dean…" Sam came hard with a loud cry, and Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair as his brother shuddered through his release.

Dean couldn't quite catch a full breath when the reality finally sank in that that Sam had just had a sex dream about him. The truth of it was intoxicating and terrifying at the same time. He was elated and horrified, thrilled yet worried. Had he somehow deflected all of his lascivious musings onto his little brother? Even though Dean had been so careful, he couldn't help wondering if he had somehow caused this to happen. At the same time, his heart was doing triple flips in his chest at the idea that Sam reciprocated all of Dean's lustful imaginings.

Dean knew the second Sam woke. Sam's entire body froze. Dean continued stroking Sam's hair to put him at ease; or, at least give him as much comfort as possible under these circumstances.

Sam pulled back slightly. His mouth was wide open in an expression of pure horror. He was still breathing hard, now more from panic than arousal. The motel's sign out front cast enough light through the curtains that Dean could see the stricken look on Sam's face.

"I..I…Dean…"

"Shh, Sammy," said Dean, pulling Sam back down so that his little brother's head rested against his chest. "It's okay."

"No…no…I'm so sorry… I didn't—"

"Sammy," Dean interrupted in a soft tone. "Not tonight. Let's go back to sleep. Tomorrow we can talk."

Sam was pretty sure he would never be able to sleep after what had just happened. There was no way Dean would ever sleep in the same room with him again. There was no way Dean would stick around after this. He would call Dad and tell him to come and get his freak son and Sam would never see Dean again. His heart broke at the thought. It was all he could do to maintain his composure.

Dean could practically hear the self-loathing roiling in Sam's brain. There was only one way he could think of to let Sam know what he needed to hear without having to spend the next hour analyzing everything when they should be sleeping. Slowly, so as not to startle Sam, Dean took Sam's hand and pushed it down to his own hard cock which was still encased in his jeans.

"Feel that?" whispered Dean.

Sam managed a slight nod, but he was too stunned to do more than that. He felt the heat of Dean's cock beneath his hand and couldn't believe he was touching it, couldn't believe how hard it was. After all this time, Sam couldn't quite allow himself to believe that his big brother could possibly be turned on by the same thoughts Sam had. It would be too perfect, and that just never seemed to happen for them.

"That's all for you, Sammy. Now…let's go back to sleep. We can talk about everything in the morning, okay?"

Sam just nodded again. When Dean moved his own hand away, Sam didn't remove his hand from Dean's erection. He wanted to feel it. He didn't care that his own boxer-briefs were a sticky mess. He wasn't about to move away from Dean now. Dean's fingers dove into Sam's hair again and Sam let out a contented sigh.

Dean wasn't sure how in the world he would ever fall asleep with Sam's hand on his cock, but there was no way he would ask Sam to move it. It felt too damn good. And besides, he worried that if he pushed Sam's hand away, Sam would misinterpret that as Dean not wanting it there. There was no way Dean would risk that, so he just lay there, contemplating everything that had just happened. It was quite some time later that sleep claimed him again.

The next morning Dean woke slowly. He'd slept soundly for the first time in forever. When he glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it read 7:30 a.m. _Shit_, he thought. _Almost twelve hours?_

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and looked around the room. When he didn't see Sam, he listened for sounds from the bathroom. Hearing nothing, he immediately jumped out of bed. Where was he? He glanced around the room for a note and found none. Dean's heart tightened. Had Sam run away after what had happened last night? Could he be so upset and worried about it that he'd taken off in the middle of the night?

Dean paced the room for a few moments, then went to the door and opened it. The Impala was still parked outside, which meant Sam was on foot. He closed the door again and took a deep breath to calm himself. He strode to the duffle bag in the corner of the room and rummaged to find clean clothes. As he removed his jeans and t-shirt, he realized his hands were shaking. All the monsters he faced never caused him to shake like this. But the thought of Sam out there alone, upset, wandering and vulnerable, or hurt, was his worst possible nightmare.

Dean was so caught up in mental images of Sam lying somewhere hurt that he didn't hear the door open. "Morning," said Sam as he shut the door behind him. He walked to the little table in their room and set down the bag he was carrying.

Dean jumped in surprise. He crossed the room in three strides to where his younger brother stood. "Where the hell have you been?" he snapped.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. Why was Dean so angry? "I…I walked to the Biggerson's up the road to get us breakfast."

"You just take off like that without leaving me a note?" accused Dean, furious now that the fear was gone.

"I left you a note, Dean," Sam calmly replied, and he looked on the table for it. He found it under the table and semi-hidden behind a chair leg. "It must've fallen off the table when I opened the door to leave." He retrieved it and showed it to Dean.

_ Went up the street to get breakfast. Back soon._

The anger drained away and Dean grabbed Sam in a bear hug. "Jesus, Sammy. I'm sorry, you just…I was…" Dean couldn't finish the sentence. _I was scared to death you'd run away._

But Dean didn't need to finish the sentence. Sam could tell by Dean's hold on him, so he hugged his brother back just as tightly. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said quietly.

Dean stepped back, cleared his throat, and changed the subject. "So what'd you bring me?"

Sam pulled food out of the bag, and it was a breakfast spread fit for four people. "And this," he announced, placing a piece of pecan pie in front of Dean.

Dean's face lit up. "Pie for breakfast! Doesn't get better than that."

Sam grinned and settled himself at the table opposite his brother. They ate in comfortable silence for a while. It was surprisingly easy after what had happened last night. Sam was still in knots over it, but now they were slightly different kinds of knots. Now he wondered what was going to happen between them if, in fact, Dean was having all the same thoughts Sam had been having. What then?

The fact that his older brother was sitting there eating in nothing but boxer-briefs was altogether too distracting. Sam had a hard time concentrating on chewing and swallowing as his eyes wandered along the corded muscles in Dean's neck, shoulders, and chest. He watched Dean's full, perfect lips close around his fork and then watched his jaw muscles as he chewed. He found himself wondering what those lips would look like clamped around his hard cock. When said cock jumped in response to such thoughts, Sam finally had to focus on his eggs and bacon and avoid looking at Dean altogether to keep himself in check.

After they finished, Dean stood up and said, "I need a shower."

"I took one before I left."

"I can't believe that didn't wake me up."

"Me, either. I don't ever remember you sleeping like that," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, looking into Sam's eyes. Today they were bright green, but Dean loved how they seemed to change color with Sam's mood or with the light. "Must've been that it was a really great night," he continued in a soft tone, and reached out to ruffle Sam's hair.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Dean broke the silence first. "Be out in a few." He went into the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**** Chapter Three ****

Dean emerged wearing only a towel draped around his slim waist. Droplets of water speckled his broad shoulders. Sam watched as one of the drops slowly dripped down Dean's chest to his firm stomach, finally disappearing into the towel at his waist. Sam's cock twitched into instant half-staff and he looked away to hide the blush on his cheeks.

Dean smiled slightly. He considered getting dressed, but then decided against it. They were about to talk about sex, so he might as well give Sam some inspiration while they did.

"So," began Dean, sitting on the edge of the bed they'd shared the night before. "You know I'm not into the whole sharing and caring crap, but I think we really can't avoid it this time."

Sam only nodded, and his face flamed hotter. "C'mere, Sammy." Dean coaxed in a gentle voice, patting the bed beside him.

Sam considered that a moment. He was already half-hard, and knew that if he sat next to Dean, smelling his freshly-showered scent and feeling all that body heat, he was completely doomed. "I…I think I'd better stay here."

A soft chuckle escaped Dean and he said again more firmly, "Sam, get your ass over here. I'm not talking at you from across the room about this."

Sam stood up and shuffled to the bed. Dean smiled when he saw the tightness in the crotch of his little brother's jeans. Good. That would make this conversation so much easier.

After Sam sat, Dean shifted into a horizontal position, plumping the pillows up beneath him and putting a couple of pillows next to him for Sam. "C'mon. Lie down. Let's get comfortable."

"Not sure comfort is possible right now," Sam mumbled, his face on fire as his cock grew even harder at the sight of his brother stretched out in only a towel. He did as Dean asked, however, and slowly stretched his long, lanky frame beside his brother's. "Maybe…maybe you should get dressed," Sam suggested, except his voice was so shaky that it came out as a whisper.

Dean turned to look at his brother and ran a fingertip along Sam's jawline. "Why? Is the towel making you uncomfortable?"

For a moment, Sam wondered if it's possible for a human being to die from blushing. Can a human body overheat and explode? Because he was pretty sure he was about to. "No, not the towel."

"Then what?"

Sam looked away and shook his head.

"Sam, we need to talk about this. I'm your big brother, and you can tell me anything. I mean it. I will never leave you, do you understand? Never. It doesn't matter what you tell me. I don't care if you think it's the weirdest, kinkiest shit you've ever heard in your life. I don't care if you think it's the sickest, most perverted fantasy you can imagine. You need to trust me, Sammy." At this, Dean put his fingers under Sam's chin and forced his brother to look at him. "Would you ever leave me over something I confided to you?"

Sam looked genuinely shocked. "No…never. Of course not."

"Then why do you think I'd leave my little brother just because he has a few kinks?" Dean asked with a tender smile.

Sam wanted to kiss Dean so badly right then. Those plump lips all moist and close. But he only nodded. "Okay, you're right. We should talk about it."

"Let's start with you telling me your amazing dream."

Sam erupted in a fresh blush. "Jesus," he whispered.

"C'mon. Tell me. It was obviously hot."

Sam laughed nervously and nodded. "It was pretty hot."

"That was evident."

"Shut up." Sam swatted Dean's arm. He cleared his throat. "I…well. At first it was the general kissing and petting stuff."

Dean's eyebrows went up in surprise. "We were kissing?" Sam tilted his head and favored his brother with a don't-be-a-jackass look and Dean chuckled. "No, I'm serious. I didn't expect that."

"What? You normally just throw people down on the bed and go right to business without any build-up?"

Dean grinned, partly because he enjoyed Sam's blushing, but mostly because he was absolutely elated that Sam had been dreaming of kissing him. He couldn't wait to test drive those sweet lips himself, and wanted desperately to nibble and lick Sam's adorable dimples. "No, you're absolutely right. I like it, I like it."

Sam rolled his eyes. Then, in a quiet voice, Dean said: "Seriously, Sam. I do like it." And to prove it, he leaned forward and pressed the softest of kisses against Sam's mouth.

Sam couldn't breathe for a second, then finally gathered his composure again. His heart raced. Dean pulled back, though, and settled beside him again. "Continue. We were kissing and petting. What then?"

"Then we had sex."

Dean made a buzzer sound. "Judges rule that answer incomplete," he joked.

"I don't…I can't…" Sam started, not sure how to put into words all the stuff that had been in his dream the night before.

"Let me help."

"Oh, great."

Chuckling, Dean asked, "When you say 'had sex,' do you mean actual fucking?"

Sam couldn't speak. He only nodded.

"Who was fucking who?"

Taking a deep breath, Sam whispered, "You were…uh…inside me."

Dean grew serious at the idea of taking his brother that way. It's not that it wasn't a turn-on, because it absolutely was. It was the thought of hurting him doing it. Sam was still so young, so inexperienced. Suddenly Dean had to know for sure how inexperienced.

"Have you been with a girl, Sam? Or a guy?"

"I've had a girlfriend!" Sam shot back a bit more defensively than he'd intended. Dean doubted his brother was telling him the truth, but he didn't press it.

"I didn't ask that. I asked if you're a virgin."

Blushing hot all over again, Sam tried to think of any way to avoid the painful truth. When he couldn't, he just nodded.

"You're sixteen, dude. That's normal. Why are you so embarrassed?"

"Because I don't like talking about it with you."

"Why not?" Dean felt a stab of pain at the thought that Sam would ever not want to talk with him about something.

"Because I'm sure you weren't a virgin at sixteen, all right?" snapped Sam, turning away from Dean again.

Dean smiled at that. Well, he certainly couldn't deny it. "That doesn't mean anything." He reached up and played with the silky strands of his brother's hair. "C'mon. Tell me what else we did." And then he decided to help out a bit. "Did I suck your cock?"

Sam's eyes went wide, then he nodded. Dean continued: "Did you suck my cock?"

Sam licked his lips and nodded again. Emboldened by Sam's admission, Dean whispered, "Do you want to find out what it feels like for real?"

Dean leaned over and kissed Sam's lips lightly. He hovered there a moment, just leaving his lips pressed against his brother's, waiting to see what Sam would do. To his delight, Sam let out a very soft whimper and kissed Dean back feverishly.

Dean held back a chuckle at the sudden attack. For a young man with almost no experience, Sam was a surprisingly artful kisser. Sam held Dean's face in his hands and gently coaxed Dean's mouth open, plumbing its wet heat with his tongue. Dean heard a moan and realized it had come from him. His blood sang at the feel of Sam pressed against him, the feel of his hard shaft nudging at Dean's hip.

Dean pulled back and said in a throaty growl, "Get undressed."

Without a word, Sam stood up and jerked off his t-shirt, quickly yanking off his jeans as well. His boxer-briefs were tented from his erection, but he had a difficult time removing them. It felt so strange to be standing there, hard as a rock, in front of his big brother. After all this time, after all those nights of wanting this, he couldn't make his fingers cooperate.

Dean rolled forward and deftly pulled Sam's underwear down to his ankles. He drew in a quick breath at the sight of his little brother's straining erection. Already it was glistening with arousal. "Jesus, Sammy," was all he could say.

He moved back over and Sam climbed into bed again with him. Without a word, Sam reached for the towel at Dean's waist and opened it, tugging it hard from beneath his brother. He tossed it aside and eyed his brother's golden body hungrily. His mouth actually watered at the sight of Dean's thick, hard shaft resting against his stomach.

"Want to taste it?" whispered Dean.

Nodding, Sam didn't wait for any further invitation. He bent down and flicked his tongue over the warm crown of Dean's cock. Dean gasped, which spurred Sam on. He dragged his tongue in a wet line from the base of Dean's shaft to the tip and back down again. Dean's fingertips traced light circles on Sam's back while Sam's mouth worked the hard cock beneath him.

"God, that feels good," said Dean. "Suck it for me. Suck it hard."

Sam pulled Dean's entire length into his mouth. He felt his gag reflex protesting the intrusion, but after he got accustomed to the feel and the rhythm, he was moving his mouth up and down the whole shaft in a slow, easy motion. Dean moaned and pressed his hips up off the bed, silently urging Sam to suck faster; but Sam wouldn't. He took his time, teasing and tasting. He had waited so long. There was no way he'd rush this. No way.

"Sammy, please."

Sam hummed a negative response that sounded like "uh uh" against his cock and Dean groaned. Sam reached between Dean's legs to fondle his balls with one hand, and used his other to stroke Dean's cock in time with his sucking. But it was still agonizingly slow and steady, and not the hot, hard sucking Dean so desperately needed.

By the time Sam increased his intensity, Dean was writhing beneath him. Sam pressed this tip of his tongue into Dean's leaking slit and sucked it hard.

"Oh my God," Dean panted.

Sam started sucking in earnest then, pulling hard and fast on his brother's cock, and plunging his mouth down around the thick shaft in time with his strokes. Dean gasped and grunted loudly, lifting his hips in time with Sam's movements. "Sam…God…don't stop…oh…shit…gonna..gonna—" but before he could finish the sentence, Dean's warm release hit the back of Sam's throat. Eagerly swallowing it, Sam continued to stroke Dean's cock until he had milked every last drop.

When he let Dean's softening cock out of his mouth, Sam kissed his way back up Dean's abdomen to his chest. He paused to flick his tongue against the nipples that had turned to pebbles. Giving each of them a tiny nip, he finally reached Dean's neck and kissed and licked it.

Dean found it hard to focus. This was really happening. All those fantasies, and he was lying here with Sam's mouth all over him. He shivered and fought to control his emotions for a moment, then pulled Sam close. "That was awesome."

"You taste good," whispered Sam. It just tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it. He knew Dean didn't like all that flowery stuff, but he couldn't help it. He was so happy to be right here, feeling Dean's warmth and tasting the saltiness of his release on his tongue. Sam felt his eyes prickle and fought back the happiness threatening to overwhelm him.

Dean smiled at Sam's words. It was so…Sam. He always had been more expressive than Dean, and Dean loved him for it. "Know what?"

"What?" Sam whispered back.

"I want to taste you now." Dean easily flipped Sam onto his back and moved on top of him. "Do you want me to?"

Sam nodded and held Dean's face in his hands again, pulling his brother down for a deep kiss. When Dean felt Sam's tongue invade his mouth, his cock stirred all over again. He couldn't remember anyone ever having such a strong effect on him. The fact that he could taste his own semen on Sam's tongue made his blood race even faster.

Dean finally broke away and trailed his lips down Sam's neck to his shoulders, nipping the tender flesh gently with his teeth as he moved. When Dean reached Sam's navel and dug his tongue inside, Sam grunted loudly and thrust upwards.

"Like that, Sammy?"

"Yes," panted Sam in response, now desperate for Dean to reach his target.

"Look at you, all hard and hot," whispered Dean, gliding his finger around the wet tip of Sam's cock. "Look at all that precome just oozing out of that big cock."

Sam whimpered and pushed his hips up again trying to get friction against Dean's finger, but Dean moved it away.

"Do you want my mouth on your cock?"

Sam nodded, and Dean said, "No, Sammy. I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want it."

Blushing crimson, Sam whispered, "I want you to suck me."

"Suck you where?" Dean asked, wrapping his fingers around Sam's shaft and giving it two long firm strokes.

Sam groaned loudly. "Suck my cock. Please, Dean. Please."

Dean plunged his mouth down around his brother's cock, sucking it to the base. It was no small feat, either, because although he was only sixteen, Sam was built like a porn star. Dean had often wondered what delight was hidden in Sam's jeans now that he was sixteen, and now that Dean had his lips wrapped around it, he found that the experience exceeded his wildest imagining.

Dean teased his brother's rod a few minutes, and Sam thrashed back and forth under him, moaning and grabbing handfuls of sheets. He was murmuring incoherently between his heavy panting, and Dean had never seen or heard anything so incredibly erotic in his life.

It was only a moment more before Sam let out loud yelp and shot his hot come into Dean's mouth. Dean sucked hard and swallowed it all down, stroking and petting Sam's hip and thighs until his shivering had subsided.

He moved up to lie next to Sam again and they both struggled to slow their pulses. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's waist and snuggled close. "I'm only giving you a five-minute break. Then we're going for round two."

Sam laughed. "What's round two?"

"You'll see."

Grinning, Sam threw his leg over his brother's. After a moment, he whispered, "Dean?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad we talked about this."

Dean chuckled and threaded his fingers in his brother's hair. "Me, too, Sammy. Me, too."


End file.
